I wouldn't have to say you were the one who got away
by Gemmaaaaa
Summary: Clovis was the right choice, the smart choice, yet she sought Anakin's passion to fill a void the real life romance clearly couldn't…Even after the inevitable break up – Padme was too good to keep such secrets – he held her as she sobbed, hating herself for hurting the guy. Strangely, as badly as that had stung, he knew he'd rather have the pain she brought him than nothing at all.
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, Anakin Skywalker was just a boy who'd dreamed of a better world, a world where _fairness_ existed, where he and his mom would get their share of luck somehow and she wouldn't have to pretend everything was alright to his face, and then worry about the bills piling up later. Where he wouldn't lie awake night after night and hear her crying through the thin walls. A long time ago, when youth failed to protect little Ani Skywalker from the stresses of the real world, he met a girl. A girl who wanted _more_ for others and nothing for herself… They'd become friends, playmates… He played the Prince and she was the Princess who didn't need rescuing from a tower.

Whenever he looked back, older now, perhaps even a little wiser, he could see he was doomed from the beginning. Sometimes, in the deepest hazes of his half-crazed thoughts, he came close to wishing the angel hadn't descended into his world at all. Life was cruel to give a taste of perfection while it planned to rip it away from him so soon after. He wished she'd never found him as he played alone, the boy who didn't fit in, the _poor_ boy, the _lonely_ boy… He wished she hadn't been so kind to him… He wished she hadn't seen something worthwhile in him… He wished many things.

Wishes don't come true.

Not for Anakin.

They spent years together, doing what children do, they played together, grew up together… More than once as teenagers they snuck out of their houses – he always had to catch her as she slipped out of the window – and lay in one of the nicer meadows, naming the stars and weaving epic stories of how they came to be. Padme loved that game best of all. He always said she was a dreamer, just like him. Two dreamers attempting to ignore the shackle of reality clasped tight around his ankle.

He'd have lost himself in their dreams and surrounded himself with imagined realities, _better_ worlds but she wouldn't _let him,_ dreams were never enough for Padme. She always yearned for something _real,_ wanted to make the dream worlds they crafted into the new reality no matter how much people laughed it off or dismissed it as impossible If anyone could do it, it would be her, Anakin believed that. But he, selfish and greedy as he was, wanted to keep their dreams to themselves.

He took work as soon as he could, selling his labour and talents with engines and machines to a run-down mechanics around the block. The money hadn't been much, but it helped. His mother wept when she discovered he'd saved everything he could to help her. _"Sweet boy, my perfect boy."_ She'd cried that night, as she held him close and for a while, nothing else mattered but the _relief_ on her tired face when the envelopes stamped with, " _past due"_ stopped arriving in the mailbox. It made him want to do _more,_ to help more and take as much strain off her shoulders as possible… He was almost a man now, it was time to act like it. So he left school, _too soon, too with few qualifications,_ and worked almost every moment he could. Watto paid him more the longer he stayed, and he stayed all night more than once.

Padme didn't understand why he'd willingly walked away from school, from education, from his _chance_ … Anakin couldn't blame her for that. If she never knew a fraction of the troubles he and his mom faced, he'd be content. He never told her the full truth, only lied with a too smug shrug and a fake air of confidence, " _school just isn't for me. I don't need it."_

She was the one to shatter the strange line they walked of friendship yet something much more than that. She kissed him in their meadow, when he finally had the time to see her… Watto let him stay home for the day, amid fears of being caught overworking him, and he sought her out. Her kiss – his first, not hers – and unknowingly shackled him to her for life. He was heart and soul, she just didn't see it. But it didn't have the same effect on her, she was always better at letting go and moving on than he was.

She gave him _everything…_ Everything but what he truly wanted. She gave him her kiss, her touch, her _body,_ but despite all that, her pure, _precious_ heart remained constantly out of reach for the grease rat. Her love was unattainable, so he never asked her for it, never _dared_ put himself through the rejection in fear of losing what little he had… Anakin knew better than to risk that. What could _he_ ever have given to her? He had himself and his heart and nothing else… Not like the other guys from school, like Clovis who took her on dates to the nicest restaurants in town. He would have had to save for _weeks_ to have a fraction of that kind of money.

So he ignored his mom's encouragement to " _just go for it!"_ And ignored the longing of his heart and asked her for nothing more than she gave. Which wasn't much, but who was a starving man to refuse scraps from the table?

Even while she dated Rush Clovis, they were tangled in each other's arms more often than not… Where, just for a while, Anakin could pretend the angel was _his_. He could forget the real world and focus on making Padme _writhe_ beneath him, cry _his_ name and feel her lips on his. He grew so good at playing that he could almost convince himself it was real sometimes.

It was nice, to be something – _someone_ – else for a while, to forget the chain around his ankle and the dead weight of the world tugging him down, trapping him on the ground while everyone else flew off without him. He'd kiss away Padme's talk of _college_ and _what comes next,_ because there was nothing he could tell her… He and his mom's biggest worries revolved around how they'd pay the bills, or how many extra blankets they'd need in winter because their combined wages just weren't enough. It was just easier to act like neither of them noticed the empty, dusty jar labelled with the words, " _college funds"_ on top of the fridge.

Dreams were all Anakin had, and for someone like Padme, whose dreams grew closer to reality by the day, that could never be enough.

He learned that the hard way, after he let himself wonder, _what if_ , and deluded himself into thinking maybe it would be enough, maybe _he_ could be enough. Valentine's day came around, and he decided to try, to offer all he had, to give his heart to the angel and pray she accepted it. She might, he half-convinced himself… She might just want him too. He'd turned up to school, a single white lily in hand – they were always her favourites – and found her by her locker, mouth covered by Clovis' and her arms full of brilliant red roses.

His pathetic attempt landed in the trashcan.

It was only two days later he was in her bed again. Clovis was the right choice, the _smart_ choice yet she sought Anakin's passion to fill a void the real life romance clearly couldn't… Even after the inevitable break up – Padme was too good to keep such secrets – he held her as she sobbed, _hating_ herself for hurting the guy. Strangely, as badly as that had stung, he knew he'd rather have the pain she brought him than nothing at all.

They had sex constantly, wild and passionate… Because _that's_ what she wanted from him. The Clovis' of the world were the receivers of her heart, not the Anakin Skywalkers who could give her nothing but empty promises and grand dreams of a life he'd never live. She deserved better than that. He was good at making her see stars behind her eyes – it was all he was good for, but his other qualities were less than desirable when looked at through the lens of real life. He could fix up any car or computer, hack into stolen cell phones for the right price, and sometimes even do the stealing himself, for a better one. He was no lawyer in the making, no captain of the football team… He was a borderline delinquent, someone with empty pockets and a blank list of prospects.

Nobody could blame her for not choosing him.

He wondered sometimes, how she'd remember him after she left – because she _was_ leaving – college called, her future was waiting and he was the past, clinging onto her with an ever slackening grip. Would she think of the little, lonely boy in the park? The friend who her parents felt sorry for, or the _man_ he was, the one who fucked her, who wasn't good for her, who she had to bail out of jail more than once so his mom wouldn't worry. What would it be? What memory would his name trigger ten years from then? He supposed, he'd never know.

When Anakin thought of Padme, he'd see warmth, and kindness and beauty and a sad, unrequited love story. But it wasn't a _real_ love story though, was it? The love would have to be mutual for that.

Maybe, just maybe, she'd forget all about him. He'd become nothing more than a vague face with a name just beyond the reach of her mind. Maybe he wouldn't even get to be that. The opportunities of her real life could sweep him out of her mind forever while he was haunted by her for a lifetime.

If it _was_ a love story, it would be the most pitiful one ever written. At least " _Romeo and Juliet"_ got to die together.

At least they loved each other.

Even then, part of Anakin wanted to pretend she wouldn't leave… That, just like in the shitty romantic movies she made him watch with her, she'd change her mind and run back into his arms and stay with him forever. It was just pretend, another one of his games, his fantasies… The boxes in her room, filling up more and more with her things were testament to that. The posters of the college she'd pinned up on the wall in excitement were the final nail in the coffin of that dream.

She was leaving and he was staying.

He had no future and she had a bright one.

She'd call him at first, he was sure… And she'd tell him all about the beautiful campus and the great people and interesting classes. And he'll pretend he isn't dying without her, that his heart hadn't descended into a never-ending winter after her departure. But after some time, they'd run out of things to say to one another, she'd make new friends and fall in love with someone deserving of her heart and eventually, the calls would stop. That's what always happens, right?

They lay beside one another in her pretty bed, large enough for the two of them, unlike his own, which bordered on too small even for him, while he enjoyed what little time he had left with her, losing himself in the agony of the pleasure they brought each other again and again because her parents weren't home and her sister didn't care. She rolled onto her stomach, and looked at him, sleepy and sated, and granted him the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen.

He supposed it was meant to be kind, to be affectionate even, but it only tore his heart in two.

 _Why did she have to look at him like that? Can't she see what this does to him?_

Did Clovis ever see that smile? Did he ever realise just how _Goddamn lucky_ he was to have the heart of Padme Naberrie, even for a little while? What did he do to earn that smile? Because it wasn't this… It wasn't sex, she'd told him Clovis never touched her, that he was the only one. Maybe he kissed her gently, sweetly… Maybe he told her he loved her, maybe he talked to her about a future they _could have_ …

Maybe that smile just wasn't for Anakin outside of her bed.

He couldn't manage even the fakest of smirks or smiles this time. After the sinfully blissful highs she brought him, he always came crashing down again, harder and harder every time until he questioned sometimes, if he could stand it anymore. The sex always left him wanting _more,_ of her, of her time, of her life…

For all the times they'd had each other, in every way they'd done it, kissed and touched and fucked, he'd never held her in his arms the way he wanted to afterwards. He never tried, and she never asked him to.

It was heartbreakingly pathetic.

"Can I use your shower?" He asked, when the panting subsided and she slipped out of the bed, draping her body in a stunning lavender silk robe and grabbed a brush to sort the messy tangles of her hair. He liked it better like that, wild, untamed… _Natural_. A peak into the reality of her life, not just what she let everyone see.

"Of course," she smiled softly, as if he'd asked as a mere friend who spent the night.

Even in the bathroom he couldn't escape her… It made sense, it was hers after all. Hundreds of little bottles from different brands littered every surface of the small room, bright and colourful, claiming to soften skin, to condition hair or whatever else girls needed to do. Being surrounded by her soaps and shampoos, her items of personal care felt almost… Wrong. Too much of a peak behind the curtain. His traitorous mind wondered for a second, what _their_ bathroom might look like if they had one. He had only the necessities, nothing fancy, no steel shelves full to the brim of different, no doubt useless, products. His bathroom was shared with his mom; she didn't have any of this stuff either.

He was quick to shove such thoughts from his mind and turned on the water instead. What was the point in torturing himself over fucking _soaps_? No, he needed to get dressed and get out. Watto wanted him in the shop in half an hour, and he didn't want to stay here too long. Sometimes it grew awkward if he lingered. Padme would want him out too, to shower herself, to wash his scent off her body and finish packing probably.

Only that night, alone in his own small bed, a memory stirred… Of two kids lounging on a spacious white couch, a bowl of popcorn laying between them as some cheesy Disney movie played on the TV. The pretty girl turned to the boy randomly and asked him about _love_ , and the boy only laughed. Love was how he felt about his mom and no one else. That kinda stuff was for the lame Princesses in these movies they watched. Ani Skywalker was too much of a boy, too _good_ for such stupid things. There were adventures to be had, things to do, he didn't care about love, not then. And that was what he told her.

What he wouldn't give to go back there again, to feel like that once more, or maybe give a different answer. The funny thing was, as he grew up, love was an inescapable beast, a haunting spirit no amount of praying could deliver him from. Love _was_ for Anakin Skywalker, but life was cruel and he was the furthest thing from _too good_ for it.

Unable to sleep, trapped in wakefulness despite the exhaustion plaguing his body, the bitter knowledge that, in fact, he wasn't _good enough_ for love settled into his mind, leaving a melancholy smile on his lips.

Across town, in the _nicer_ part, Padme was awake too, nervous and excited about moving away the very next week. There was a lot to think about; she'd already been in contact with her future roommate, Dorme, a nice girl who she couldn't wait to meet in person, and she wasn't finished packing, or buying all her books and a thousand other things. But that was alright, because everything was coming together, all the hard work she put into getting the grades she needed was finally paying off. Her parents were proud and Sola was ecstatic for her. It should've been a happy time, the _best_ time. She was getting to move early, before summer ended to settle in and find her bearings around the city, not everybody got to do that… But… Leaving so soon meant, well, less time here.

Carefully, she opened the small drawer of the bedside table and reached for the only item still inside… Everything else was packed away, ready to go, save for the few clothes and necessities she needed through the week. Everything but this, a single photo frame filled with a perfect moment captured forever on the glossy paper. A boy and a girl together on the grass, smiling widely, but at each other rather than the camera…

Padme wasn't sure if she could bear to bring it with her.

She hadn't even left and the picture already brought tears to her unwilling eyes.

There was something else she'd kept, stuck to the back of the frame with clear tape so she'd never lose it. A small chunk of wood, carved with simplistic yet beautiful little designs by a boy who life had been cruller than kind to, who made the little snippet as thanks for being his friend. They'd been just children at the time, but she'd treasured the little gift ever since.

All those years, she wanted _so much_ to give him her heart, but as they'd grown up, he didn't want it… He never asked for it, so Padme gave him her body instead. And as excited as she was to leave, to make her dreams come true, to do some _good_ in the world, her heart was heavy and sad.

She _wanted_ to go; it was for the best after all. She was going to make something of her life and a difference to the world… But she couldn't stand the thought of leaving either. Leaving town meant leaving Anakin behind, probably forever and, and… The very thought threatened to break her heart.

If he loved her the way she loved him, then maybe things could have been different, if he'd wanted her the way she'd always wanted him, perhaps there would have been no Clovis, only Anakin. What if, what if.

It was time to face the real world now… She couldn't live her life on dreams alone, and outside those dreams, Anakin didn't love her, his heart didn't crave hers the way she wanted it to, and so she had to move on and start life a life without him.

Deep down, she knew that if he asked her to stay… If he loved her even _half_ as much as she loved him, she'd stay.

But that was only a dream.

 ** _Please review!_**


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't until their forth date that Bail finally kissed her, slow and sweet, gentle as possible, as if worried she'd shatter beneath something a little more forceful. Perhaps the request could have been seen as awkward, stammered as it had been; but Padme had merely found it – and him – adorable. She'd witnessed what he was capable of in the political field, weaving together masterful speeches to bring even the most unwilling colleagues over to their side. He was an _incredibly_ articulate and intelligent man, so when he stuttered nervously over his desire to kiss her, she'd been charmed.

Everything about being with Bail was warm and safe, he made her feel wanted, _loved_ even. He adored her; everyone saw it, especially her. And he made her _happy_ , that's what was important between them, they settled into a comfortableness together Padme hadn't ever felt with anyone else. He was so kind to her, welcomed her into her job with open arms long before anything romantic sparked, and after it did, he never used the fact to undermine her, though at times their opinions differed greatly. With him, it was as if her life had come together, the pretty ribbon in place and ready to be tied.

It was a perfect match, that's what her mom said. They worked in the same field, thus understood the time and effort such careers required which meant cancelled plans had never led to fights or resentment between them, they enjoyed much of the same music, movies and culture – he'd even surprised her with a trip to Italy for her twenty-fifth birthday – and he could be terribly romantic at times.

By the time Padme turned twenty-eight, she and Bail had found a beautiful house with a pretty white picket fence not a long drive from work, big enough for them and the future children they wanted, with a pool outback for their families to come over and enjoy. It was just… _Perfect_ , like something from a dream.

But Padme didn't let herself dream anymore. Dreams didn't come true.

Even years after she'd left town, after she'd dated other men and achieved her degree, she caught herself every now and then, comparing things to how they'd been when she'd known Anakin Skywalker. Everything was certainly different now – _Padme_ was different now. She was a woman grown, a politician now, not the teenager she was back then. The girl from before was gone, her heartbreak eventually replaced by a tender love from Bail. And though deep down, she knew it was wrong, she still compared him from time to time to the boy who'd stolen her heart and never offered his own in return.

Bail wasn't Anakin; they were two very different people. And of course that was a good thing, a _healthy_ thing… The romantic in her had always assumed she'd settle for someone similar to him, in an attempt to recapture that swept away sensation he always inspired in her heart.

She and Anakin had used to talk for _hours_ about the changes they'd make to the world one day, what good they'd bring and the bad they'd weed out… She'd go over to his house and he'd pounce on her with new ideas and then less exciting diplomatic solutions when she informed him they couldn't just blow up those who wouldn't agree with their polices.

Bail simply kissed her cheek and asked her how her day had been when she got home.

That was the better way, the _adult_ way.

She didn't live in a dream world anymore, she thrived in reality and _that_ was best.

For all the comparisons she made, Padme _did_ love Bail… Perhaps not in the heart bursting out of her chest in desperation for his touch kind of way, but their love was a more refined kind. A quieter love, more realistic. It was _real_ , and it was mutual. That was what mattered.

But when she was honest with herself, _truly_ honest, she missed Anakin's passion, the _heat_ behind his kiss… Nobody had torn her clothes off and thrown her onto the nearest surface the way he had. He'd been good at making her feel _wanted_ , _needed_ even, in the moment but it always passed when it was over. When the desire was sated, what had there been afterward? Nothing. Only her dreams.

And there lay one of the largest contrasts between them, she couldn't live her whole life from dream to dream, not the way Anakin had. Padme _needed_ something tangible, she craved reality. All those years ago, she'd wanted him to ask her to stay, hoped and prayed that he would – she would have stayed, had he asked – but now she was glad he didn't. _This_ was how her life was supposed to be, she just hadn't seen it then.

It was all that which drove her to say yes when Bail had sunk down to one knee before all their family and friends and asked her to be his wife. Because it was the _right_ choice, the _best_ choice and it was what she _wanted_ … To be Bail's wife was what she wanted.

Yet, that same night when her husband to be, her fiancé had made love to her, she moaned his name and hated herself when she thought of Anakin instead…

They planned a small wedding, private and imitate, because neither liked the attention large ceremonies brought. The guest list was narrowed down to just family and close friends and that was all they needed. Their special day wouldn't be filled with people they barely knew, or colleagues they didn't like, only those who loved them, who they wanted to share their love with… A modest day suited them better.

It was strange how quickly time passed, almost before she knew it, she was being laced into her dress, surrounded by the few friends she'd chosen as bridesmaids as they did their best to ease her nerves and make the day fun. Bail's proposal only felt like _weeks_ ago, not _months_ … She'd thought time would slow down somehow in the run up to the big day, but if anything, the hands of the clock only ticked faster, rushing through the days until wedding came along.

She'd imagined this day countless times as a little girl, designed her dress on thousands of pieces of paper, placed pillowcases on her head in place of veils… Back then, lost in a haze of girlish love, Padme had always imagined the groom who waited for her would be Anakin. It had felt right then, when she'd been young enough to believe maybe, one day, he might love her too.

It was a silly dream.

Since she left for college they'd barely spoken… Their conversations fizzled and became forced and awkward until they just stopped altogether. Did she stop calling him? Or had he stopped answering? She couldn't remember which was true anymore. Did it really matter? She came close to calling him again a year or two ago, after her mom had called to let her know his mother, sweet Shmi, had been run over and died just a few days after. But at the last moment the nerves had gotten the better of her and though she swore she'd try again a little later, the call never happened.

It _should_ have, she could see that now. Not calling him was a regret she didn't like to think about. Anakin _adored_ his mother; she was all he'd had… To know he lost her so needlessly tore Padme's heart in two. But she'd known, even then, that if she'd heard him broken and alone, she'd have abandoned _everything_ to go to him. That _couldn't_ happen. So she left him to grieve and told herself others would rally around him in her place, though she couldn't name a single person in town beside her family who'd been close to the Skywalkers, but she lied to herself anyway and tried not to think of him that night.

Perhaps he wouldn't even have _wanted_ to hear from her anyway. People change. Anakin probably changed too.

Her mom wept when she saw her, while her father attempted to not do the same. It was a sweet moment, embracing her parents on her wedding day… One Padme wished she could enjoy more. But even the smallest glimpse of herself dressed as a bride awoke something terribly bittersweet in her chest. It just wasn't how she imaged the day at all… But it was what it had to be, what it was _supposed_ to be.

As her arm slid into the crook of her father's elbow, a beautiful bouquet of lilies in her free hand, her heart beat too fast, not excited but nervous because despite everything, some traitorous part of her mind had thought, had _imagined_ , he'd come… That he'd appear around some corner and profess his undying love and offer his hand to run for their lives together and she would have taken it.

It was for the best that he hadn't come. Dreams like that never worked out so well in reality… It would have hurt Bail and destroyed everything they worked toward together, it would have been irresponsible and selfish and… And she would have been _happy_ to run away with Anakin by her side.

She loved Bail. Not in the same ways, but love was love and it was a good kind of love. The normal, _real_ love. Passion always faded in the end anyway; they'd just start off without it. She didn't need it.

That was what she told herself as she walked up the aisle to the elegant tune of harps, as she listened to Bail's lovely vows and as she became Padme Organa and kissed her new husband. This was the right choice, the _only_ choice. Dreams weren't real and it was long past time she let them go because no dream had the power change reality, no matter how badly her mind may have wished they could.

Outside the pretty church, near the back of the parking lot, where no one could see him, Anakin stood, numbed by the sight before him… He'd driven for _hours_ , probably breaking a hundred road laws, desperate to stop the wedding before it was too late. When he'd run into Padme's mom and she told him the news, he'd battled himself, day and night, because she'd haunted every single dream he had since she left and he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

He'd pledged to live without her, because she didn't love him, because she deserved better… But the idea of _his_ Padme, his _angel_ , married to someone else tore him apart. It repulsed him to his core. Stripped him of his fear – and maybe even his decency – and he'd climbed into his car without a plan, without any true thought about his actions and drove without stopping. He had to do something, had to tell her how he felt even if he was years too late. If she rejected him, at least she'd know how much he'd loved her.

Padme had always had a joke, about his complete inability to be anywhere on time when they were kids… _She always had to tell him to come an hour before she actually wanted him somewhere if she hoped to have him there at the right time._ It had been funny then, and undeniably true. But Anakin's world froze and shattered around him as the bell in the little steeple chimed, and the small clock built into the tower showed 5:00 PM as he leapt out of the car and left engine still running in his haste. He'd thought it was earlier than it was, that there was still more time, but the little wooden doors to the building were flung open and he was forced to endure the sight of the bride and groom smiling in each other's arms as petals and confetti showered their bodies, thrown by cheering spectators but all he could see was Padme's _smile._ She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, she practically _glowed_ like the angel she was against the white of her dress. She was _happy_ with this guy, her _husband_ , he could see it. She was happy without him just like she'd always been.

He too was late this time – for the first time – _truly_ too late.

She wasn't _his_ angel anymore.


End file.
